Notes from Montana
M. Schweitzer's Field Notes

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July 14 - Last Day

Well, today we are actually driving to the outcrop I tried to walk to yesterday. It is amazing how much easier it is to get to this morning! It is the best exposure so far up here. The sediments are Judith River, about 80 million years before present. Four of us set out for the high wall, and the rest of the crew spread out amongst the other exposures. We walked and walked, and I was afraid that this too would turn out to have nothing. Then I heard Brandon call out "I have something over here!" Liz was closer, and soon I hear her yell "YOU HAVE BONE!! Way to go!" Sure enough, our undergrad, on his first field experience ever, stumbled on the only recognizable bone to date. I was really excited for him--that is all it takes to get the bug.There were two rib fragments and a toe bone exposed at first, but a little digging revealed three toes in close association, and what looked like maybe a metatarsal (foot bone), in addition to the ribs.

Other isolated bone indicated that there might be more to this dinosaur still in the hill. We did find a few  more bone fragments, but it will be Vince's decision as to whether to work this site or keep looking for more complete bones. It is a great quarry site tho, in the shade for a good portion of the day, and with great  views. However, there are the occasional uninvited guests, as Liz found while following a bone trail in the cliff. It is always important to be vigilant out here--you can sure get stung if you aren't!

Well, at this point I figured putting 20 additional miles on my injured knee was probably NOT a good idea, and Liz and I packed up to head back, her to the Jordan site and me to Bozeman. So, I say goodbye again to the badlands, tho I hope I get back out here soon, once more before returning to city life.

One can forget that there are places in this country where people can still travel by rail, and to stand on a high bluff overlooking the river below, and see the contrasts of this land. I love this life, this land, and our country. What a privilege to live here! So for now, goodbye from the badlands, and Montana.

July 13

Hmmm. Shoulda known that Friday, the 13th would not bring good luck! We chose an area to prospect out of Vandalia, a small little almost ghost town with a school and a stillactive post office. We walked out these new outcrops--and they were outcrops, the type of exposures that we were hoping for, but we had no luck at all, other than a few small chunks of bone here and there. I don't know if it was pain from my leg, or the lack of sleep because of it, but I felt a little sick on the drive out to the site, which got worse and worse the closer we got.

So, the crew took off and I laid down for a little, until I couldn't stand it anymore, and then slipped into my pack and headed out. I kept having to sit down about every 500yards, until, I headed back to the car, and yup, lost what little breakfast I had, as well as lunch and dinner yet to come. Bleh. The glamour of the field--but I felt better. Rested a while longer, and headed out, limping, again. I got about 3 hours of walking in before taking another break, but I HATE to miss a moment out here looking for our elusive dinosaurs, and so about 3 I headed to a far outcrop I thought I could walk in an hour or so. Well, didn't bargain for a gimp knee and 105 degree heat--and no food. That was as close as I want to come to heat exhaustion, and I was never so glad to see the crew and a vehicle following me out on a two-track road in my life! Later, I got a new nick-name from Vince, the Paleo curator at the NC Museum---"running mule deer." One of the students suggested that perhaps running deer was enough. Vince and I looked at each other and agreed. MULE deer was probably appropriate.

One thing that is always fun out here when we prospect is the wonderful old homesteads we see, miles from nowhere, abandoned by the settlers who braved this harsh land, but for whatever reason, said goodbye to the prairie and their dreams and moved on, leaving only these shells. This one was nicer than most, and a woman's touch remained all these years later in a carefully arranged rock border that once outlined a  garden, and an old clothesline, as well as remnants of paint on the weathered walls...

July 12

Well, not much luck today. We aimed for one site that looked promising on the map, where this area was outlined as terrestrial Hell Creek deposits, but it sure didn't look like it, and had none of the badlands-type weathering that so characterizes this formation elsewhere. In fact, there was nothing for miles and miles and miles and miles but the rolling drab topography that marks marine sediments. We walked out a few exposures, but there was nothing at all weathering out. We didn't find what we hoped for, but we did see some pretty spectacular wildlife. The birds are really amazing here, and we came surprisingly close to many. I love the birds of prey--guess they remind me of dinosaurs! . We drove past a HUGE raptor, who would jump up and flap his wings at the trucks but didn't fly away. He was claiming his territory and  warning us away. We didn't go very much further before we saw the reason he was so territorial--maybe. Another bird was nestled in the grass. It didn't move a muscle, despite the noise and dust from our 3 vehicles. We didn't know if she was injured or guarding young--but this bird doesn't normally nest on the ground. Of course, there aren't many alternatives up here!

Given the lack of exposures in this area, we made it a short day, and then headed to town for gas and a few other things we needed. Hopefully tomorrow will be better, but this was a good starting day...We were joined in the evening by three NCSU undergrads, Chris, Brandon and Dan, and Walt from the museum also drove in. We are a full crew now.

July 11

We were off to a slow start this morning. We decided to clean up camp a little, because we are expecting a few visitors who will come in with Jack later. But in a little while, we were ready to go. It was already hot again by 9:30. Today the plan was to drive to Quittin' Time quarry, (as opposed to "Stop yer Truck," "Yapping coyotes," or "Ducky Tail") where they are jacketing a lot of bones that represent remains of several triceratops. There is almost a complete pelvis... That is one BIG jacket. The other half of the crew--Nels, Brian, Luke, Ed and Sarah--have been working every day to quarry and jacket all these bones, and have done an amazing amount of work. The jackets are huge and heavy, and it has been a major effort.

There we trade vehicles, as we have agreed to use only diesel to cross this farmer's land to lessen fire danger, and then we head for the site where Bob earlier identified a large femur weathering out.  It is next to another find we want to check out, and not too far from camp. So, we drive to the edge of the fence, and from there it is a 2 mile walk across grasslands and cut-aways to the bones. We set out, and it was hot but not unbearable. About a half-mile in, we came to a gully cut away in the grass. It was wide, but jumpable, I thought, so I went first and made the leap across. I landed with my heavy pack, and as I hit the ground I heard an audible "pop" as my knee gave way...oh, that hurt. Really really really bad. I was not sure what I did, but it definitely wasn't trivial. However, there were lots of bones to see and sample, and I couldn't miss the opportunity, so after a lot of moaning, I borrowed a knee brace from Liz and off we went, under two fences, across a long field, and past an old homestead. Finally up and down a few draws (oh the downs hurt) and at last we were at the femur!
It seemed perfect, at the base of a sandstone cliff about 20 feet high (perfect from MY perspective, not Bob, Nels and the crew responsible for excavating)and I was able to take a sample of bone. I would have dug back in the hill and taken unexposed sample, but that wasn?t possible. If there is more bone exposed when they quarry, I will come back.

We are going to head back to camp, and then meet the NC crew in Glascow...

July 10

Today will be a fun day. We will go back to the turtle site to finish a top jacket on the one we made  yesterday, and then go back to the little thescelosaur foot and do the same. Then, John and Denver want to go back to the triceratops skulls. Their location and other information will be useful for both of their research projects, and while we won?t collect any bone, there are pieces there that will provide them with information.

It is very chilly this morning, and windy. I have both a sweatshirt and light jacket on. Unusual for this time of year here, as usually we have exactly the opposite problem. But we have learned to be grateful for the cool. It won?t last, and in a few days it will be back to boiling.

The morning remained cool and windy, and we walked to the turtle with sweatshirts on, despite the heavy packs. We carted in burlap and water and bags of plaster to finish the jacket. It was as we had left it, so we spent a little while undercutting the pedestal of sediment it rested on to make it rest only on a small point of mud. That made it easy to flip, and soon we had mixed the plaster goo, dipped the burlap, and smoothed out a nice, solid cap for the jacket. We looked around a little bit more, then headed to do the same for the small foot from yesterday. The crew took off in different directions?John and Denver to take more stratigraphic data and to try to identify which of the three bands of coal they could use to mark the K-T boundary. Liz and Malorie, who joined us yesterday afternoon, went exploring, and Mark and I set out to flip and top jacket the foot. It alternated between really HOT in the sun, and cool when the clouds came up. They had been building all afternoon, and just as we were ready to apply the plaster it began to rain?.it was COLD! The icy drops were driven right into our skin by the winds coming at us from all directions. We ran up the gully to try to find shelter, leaving bones and packs and equipment. It was FREEZING. Unfortunately, the walls of the nearby ravines and gullies went straight up, with no overhangs, and we had no recourse but to stand their and shiver as we got totally soaked. But, it was over as quickly as it began. The sun came back out, but it wasn?t all that warm?. We hurriedly undercut the jacket from yesterday, taking more sediment than we would have had it been in a more stable sandstone. We mixed the plaster, dipped burlap, and soon it was done?and we were warming up slowly. We walked out a few outcrops while the jacket dried, and checked with Liz and Malorie, who had found a jumble of small turtle bones, gar fish scales, and a very large bone that looked like it might be from a triceratops skull. We couldn?t identify it, but it was intriguing, and high in section. Their site proved to be a microsite, with lots of different types and sizes of bone from many different animals weathering out together. We didn?t jacket any for removal, but marked it for the future.

Then came the fun part, watching Denver carry the really heavy foot jacket up the steep ravine on his back. The jacket was just about at the upper limit of carry-ability. We have a special pack for this, and we strapped the jacket on to the frame, then strapped the frame to Denver. All I can say is I am glad I didn?t find this set of bones. This is where the ?you find it, you carry it out? field rule is just not convenient. I have found over the years that dinosaurs never pick convenient places to die. In this case, that was at the bottom of a steep channel of popcorn muds that had just gotten slightly more slippery in the short-lived rainstorm. It was not appreciated when I pointed out about half-way back that that is why most of us HAVE graduate students?..Denver didn?t laugh.

We also went back to the triceratops sites again, to mark the data. It turns out that tho they were badly weathered, at one site there may have been one or two diagnostic bones, so John collected those. On the way back, after marking the last one, Mark led the way out and right ahead of me, he took a leap up a small ravine, stumbled, and fell. But he was right back up again instantly with a few words that I won?t  repeat here. When he held still long enough, I realized the problem. He had set his hand down to catch his fall?.in the middle of a large juicy patch of prickly pear cactus! Oh, that hurt?so that delayed us while we picked out the larger spines. Finally, we were heading to town for gas, then back to camp.

I wanted and needed a shower so badly! So even tho it was almost 8 pm, and it had not been warm enough to heat the water, I couldn?t stand it. So, I braved the outdoor shower, attached to the road-facing back of the trailer. The wind was whipping through the tarps, flipping them up now and then, and making the inside  even colder. I did get through the first several layers of sand, dirt, plaster and sweat before the cold got to me. I have never been one to suffer in silence?.no one wondered where I was anyway?.

Clean, and slightly thawed, we were treated to a spectacular dinner of grilled shrimp, Greek salad with feta and tomatoes, whole artichokes and rosemary bread. I always eat better in the field than usual, which seems odd, given the conditions we work in. I am amazed at what Laura can pull off. It was later than usual by the time everyone ate and dishes were done. We were standing around talking as the stars popped out one by one and got progressively brighter?.it was so beautiful, the velvet sky and pinprick diamonds. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the sky began to get brighter and brighter. There are no cities out here to contribute to light pollution, and I could not figure out what was going on (the opening scenes of Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind crossed my mind!). Suddenly, it looked like someone had turned on a giant spotlight, and aimed it at the sky, just a straight tunnel of light from ground to sky. I just watched as another and another appeared?it was a spectacular night time display of Northern lights! Brighter than I had seen them in ages, they danced and moved and swayed for almost 40 minutes. There was no color, tho sometimes there is, but these were just white. It was eerie and majestic and wonderful to watch. It is so easy in the city to forget what it is like to just sit and watch this incredible nature. I am grateful every day for the opportunities I have. It is easy to remember what is really important when I have time to just sit and watch.

July 9

Last night was a LOT better! I am glad because I wouldn?t be walking much if it were as loud and windy and rainy and lightening filled as Saturday! It is a beautiful day. There is the slightest of breezes waving the grass, and clouds, but none threatening. We will check out a new site today, and the exposures are supposed to be better than yesterday. With a new site comes the hope that the dinosaurs that have so far remained elusive will surely be found! This is a productive area, and we never come back empty handed from a day of prospecting. The last non-avian dinosaurs lived during the time these rocks were laid down. We are high enough in section that in many of the exposed badlands one can see the dark bands of coal that mark the K-T boundary, the great extinctioneven that left us with no more of these grand beasts. It should be a GREAT day.

Well, I didn?t come back with my T.rex, but it was a productive day. We revisited a site where my friend Mark had previously found a fairly complete turtle just above the K-T boundary, and began the process of putting a plaster jacket around the bones and loose shaley mud it rested upon. While we were there, the  rest of the crew wandered off and Liz found the remains of a second partially articulated crocodile in the shales, and Denver found the skull bone of an as yet unidentified dinosaur.

Then we moved down the road to another site, and in our wanderings stumbled across (literally) the  perfectly articulated and preserved bones from the foot of a small, plant eating dinosaur called thescelosaurus. They were weathering out of mudstone, and bone doesn?t last long in this type of sediment, because it absorbs moisture, and as it goes through wet and dry cycles, causes the bones to shatter into a million sharp shards and then crumble away. So, we began immediately to excavate around the bone that was exposed. When we were fairly certain that there was only a foot, we sent Liz back to the truck to get plaster and burlap, and began to jacket those bones as well. The crew went off prospecting while Mark and I worked to expose and pedestal the bones. We stabilized the bone and applied a thick layer of plaster to encase the bones and the sediments, thus stabilizing it for movement. at last the jacket was done, we will let it dry overnight and come back to finish tomorrow. We decided to prospect one more site before heading back to camp, and their broke off into groups to explore. In our wanderings,we found and noted four triceratops skulls. Unfortunately, we were about 50 years too late to collect them. When bone weathers out of muddy shale, the wet-dry cycles of the clay-y minerals cracks and explodes the bone, until there is nothing left but mounds of bone shards. It is sad, so much information is lost, but we can note their presence. One of the goals of this project is to get a better picture of the overall paleoecology of this region, and so we note the presence of dinosaurs we can identify to group, whether or not they are good enough to collect. It also allows us to form ideas about herd/family structure, growth rates, and other biological factors not discernable with only one dinosaur. The Hell Creek is rich in both diversity of dinosaurs and preservation, so it is excellent for this type of study.

Back in camp everyone takes a few minutes to unload, wash up, and just unwind. Jay, who owns the land where we camp, stopped by to visit. We are so appreciative when landowners give us access and  permission to look for our critters. This family has been particularly generous, and have put up with us for three seasons now. It can?t be easy to be invaded by this many each summer, and I can?t say enough thanks for all they do.

Now, there are fossils to be sorted through, field notes to complete, and then its time to help with dinner, which tonite is a traditional Norwegian dinner. I can?t spell or pronounce it, but I CAN eat it, and it was great. The sunset was beautiful, and I love just wandering around this old farm. The family had parked all their old equipment here. They no longer use it, and they have space to store it, so they do. They are part of the landscape now, and part of prairie life. It is really a pretty classic view of life out here.

I also have to throw in this picture of the outhouse that was from LAST year. The crew spent a day digging out a new outhouse last summer, for reasons best left to the imagination. It has been replaced by a new model, which is way upscale, with even electricity and an inside light?and a mirror on the wall with ducks etched inside! It is awfully plush. Since the crew is made up of mostly men, and since the cabin is used mainly for hunting camp for the family here, you can see how the argument for ownership of the new  outhouse fared! Tells you how the ?wimmin? rate in the grand scheme of things!

July 8

The sun began shedding light on the tent an hour or so later. I tried ignoring it but couldn't and finally got up about 6, thinking that everyone else had the same experiences. However the REST of the camp knows to sleep thru the sun by now, as a 7 am start is early enough. Boy, am I tired. Need coffee. Could be a long day. But--it will be cool after the rain, and that is a great way to prospect...unless the clouds building to the east turn out to be as threatening as they look. Most will be working on a juvenile triceratops they are quarrying, but I am hoping for bigger things...Later...

As usual, we never can plan, not even a few hours in advance. It started raining again as we left camp--from sprinkles to LOTS of rain. Out here the roads cut through Bearpaw shale, so when it is at all wet, it turns the consistency of--well, maybe a cross between molasses and used motor oil. Four wheel drive gives no traction, chains on tires, no difference. Sometimes if it rains you might not get your vehicle unstuck till fall. Fortunately, the rain didn't quite reach saturation, and we made it to the site fine. Except it wasn't the triceratops site, we were revisiting old quarries dug by Berkeley 20 or so years ago. And, of course, the crew immediately split in half and we spent a lot of the morning looking for the lost "kids." In our wanderings, we found the toe bone of a smallish duckbill dinosaur (probably edmontosaur), the vertebra of a Thescolasaur, and my friend Mark had the find of the day--the cervical (neck) vertebra from a T. rex. It was oddly shaped, and though in life, it was close to the skull, no other bones were near this one. The other half of our crew (Denver, Liz and John) found a partial skeleton of a freshwater crocodile.

Now, back at camp, they sit together to inventory all the finds. It is fun to hear their excitement and enthusiasm...another "crop" to take over as paleontologists! Now I am sitting near the camp kitchen, with the smell of Tandoori chicken on the grill. Everyone has gone their own separate way to rest up, and wait for dinner. Eric and Luke decided to try to catch a baby bunny that runs thru camp, and frequently invades the cook tent, just to see if they could. The trap didn't work. The bunny was smart enough not to run under the propped up "bunny box," but they did eventually catch him...he was scared to death, but adorable. Amazing he is still running around with the number of rattlesnakes in and near camp.

Phew! Dinner was unbelievable! We are all stuffed and tired. Luke is playing the guitar softly and watching the sun go down, and Eric is playing the harmonica--classic old folk songs. The sky is beautiful, with colors going from blue of midday to pink and purple, orange and soon black, as the sun leaves with its light. I hope that we can sleep better, with no lightening and dry pillows. Boy I am tired...but I love it. There is something about this life...as close, probably to the old cowboy life as we get these days, with hard  physical labor under the hot sun during the day, and then relaxing before a relatively early night. It is quiet and peaceful, the kind of peace that only comes with a good day's hard work.

July 7 - Hell Creek

I left Bozeman about noon today, after running multiple errands in town. I have had enough of town life already, tho I have not really been "in town," and have worked from my place in the country as often as possible, with only the company of horses and mules, dogs and cats. But, the badlands call me, and I am anxious to go again. I took highway 90 east toward Billings, but this time kept my eyes open for the Big Timber turnoff--last time out, I absolutely bypassed the little town, and ended up almost to Billings before realizing it. It can happen when the roads are straight and the scenery is distracting--to me, anyway.

So, the by now familiar road stretched out before me- Big Timber to Harlowtown has some relief, some curves, and it is still relatively green, tho it is concentrated near the Yellowstone river. Then on to Lewistown, the cow-town that sits and Montana's very center, geographically. From there, the Crazy Mountains fill my windshield as I head east on highway 200, and there we hit flat. I like the drive better than that to Malta, and it feels shorter. But it is still long, flat, dry.

The first signs of Hell Creek Formation begin a ways outside of Jordan, with the drab, featureless grey of the underlying Bearpaw Shales giving way to the silver and tan and reds that indicate terrestrial deposits: and dinosaur hunting grounds. I pass small creeks that are not usually named for people or battles, like back east, but for more mundane things. In my wanderings across Montana I have passed Deer Creek, Elk  Creek, Sheep Creek, Bear Creek, Squaw Creek. Here we find Sagehen (it's a prairie bird) Creek, of course Cow Creek (lots of cows) and Calf Creek, Horse Creek, Box Elder (both a bug and a tree) Creek, Bug Creek (ugh, 'nuff said), and of course Devil's Creek and Hell Creek--and the realistically named--Big Dry Creek. Even the names of the small towns up here reflect both the hopeful (Grass Range) and realistic (Sand Springs) names inherited by the early settlers. Also Big Timber and Plentywood, both in the midst of the prairie, where trees are anything but big and plentiful, except near the river. I stopped to top off my gas tank, and ran into Bob and half the crew, heading down to join Jack Horner in Ekalaka, where a T.rex or two are awaiting discovery. Then, I headed out of town.

"There are TWO roads going north, one a few miles out of town, the other 25 or 30 (mind you, there is a BIG difference out here between 25 and 30 miles..). Take the second one, except there are lots of farm roads going north, so don't take any of them (???). The road you want is by a big gravel pile. If you pass the rest stop (and presumably the gravel pile) you went a little too far (oh, like 20 additional miles--out here, I guess that is a little ways). There is a big sign with a lot of ranch names on it, and it is a gravel road?a GOOD gravel road (as opposed to???). Go 20 or 30 miles. You will pass a "moose crossing" sign (moose---HERE?) but just keep going past it till you come to a mailbox. Turn right. Go a ways further till you see camp". All I can say is, it's a good thing I grew up here..

The crew was still out when I drove in, and only Laura, our resident cook and opera singer, was here. I set up my tent over the hill--hot, but not as hot as yesterday when it reached 112 in town. This was NOT heat index, it was base temperature.

My tent has three tent poles that crisscross and when you bend them in place, the tent sorta sets itself up. But of course as soon as I did that, the wind came up. I had only staked one corner so I could position it, and my tent was flapping around like a giant balloon tethered by that one lone stake. Once again, I was very glad no one was around to see me try to wrestle it to the ground and pin it down. I finished and went to help with dinner about the time the crew drove in, so it was fun to see folks I hadn't seen in a year and get caught up--but not so fun when I learned that last night they caught and killed a very large rattlesnake right by where I pitched my tent. I guess it can't bother me now, but I will certainly be more cautious!

It was easy to fall asleep, for sure, but about 2, I woke to tiny taps on the tent--my only thought was, "I love sleeping when the rain is falling." That didn't last, as the wind came up again, and the rain increased in  intensity til being inside the tent was like listening to a thousand tap dancers on a glass floor. Ugh.  Eventually, my exhausted brain got the message from my head that it was getting wet. It was raining hard, yes but not hard enough to force the water thru the rain fly. Hmmm. It took awhile for me to realize that I had left the rainfly front open to catch the breeze, which was now driving the rain in thru the screen and onto my head, pillow and sleeping bag. I got wetter trying to figure out how to zip it, but finally got it mostly down.

June 6 - Flying Out

Well, the rains from last night have lingered, and in fact the weather has deteriorated rapidly. We spent the morning checking out some land for potential prospecting, in hopes that the weather would clear, but not only did in not get better, the land turned out to be all marine sediments. Since dinosaurs didn't live in oceans, that turned out to not be useful. But, the scenery was spectacular.

At last it looked like we might take off. Checking radar, weather, and farmer's opinions, we loaded up at the Malta airport, and headed out.

AAAAAAA! I forgot to unpack my camera once we were inside! I missed 2 hours of incredible scenery...But, the weather was increasingly iffy as we headed south, and so my colleague decided to touch down in Lewistown to see if we could wait it out. Camera was the first thing I did. These small airstrips often leave a car for pilots to use to get to town, and this was no exception. We found the keys hidden in the car, and drove the five or so miles to town for lunch, keeping one eye on the sky the whole time.

Back from lunch, more computer checking, and we finally decided to make a go for it.

So, off we took from the Lewistown airport, heading south by way of Big Timber so we would have an option for landing if the visibility or wind worsened.I am still amazed at how green it is. It is even more apparent from the air. It surely has been a huge relief to the farmers here to have so much moisture. It has been years since things looked so pretty! Yes, it is still pretty bleak, compared to the green of NC, but for this part of the state, it is impressive!

We headed south, and made it to the pass about 13 Cherokee 7045 Romeo waiting for take-off miles from Big Timber. But visibility was worsening and the rain picked up, and all of a sudden, just as we were to fly through a narrowing in the hills and on down, the clouds lowered like a cement gate. Doug said "guess what, we are heading back to Lewistown." But, things lightened up north a bit, and so we decided to try Harlowtown, a teeny tiny farming town (pop. 1000) that would save us an hour or so. We would try again in the morning, when the weather would either get better, or worse, depending on who you listened to.

We decided not to take any chances, and try to stay the night. so, we called a small, family operated hotel (no one left a car at this airport! Or gas, or anything else). So, about 20 minutes later, a car comes bumping down the gravel road from town, and the young hotel owner was there to pick us up. A quick bite of cheese and chips, a soak in a real, hot bathtub, and I was out. Until 2 am, when I was awakened by a dull roar, like a train bearing down on the town.

Except it didn't pass, like a train--it just kept building and building. For 3 hours, it blew strong and steady. It was a long night, and I could just imagine my colleague in the room down the hall, having nightmares about heading out the next morning to find his little plane wadded up like a crushed tin can. But finally it blew itself out, and by 7 am when we checked radar, it looked possible, so off we headed, on a flight path that would follow the Crazy Mountains down over Livingston, and over the Bozeman pass, and on in--wow--that is all I can say.
 
Well, that is it from the field in Montana. The snow line here on June 7, 2007 is about 5000 ft, and here in town it is hovering around 45F. There are more dinosaurs waiting, but the next trip in about 3 weeks will be east, not north, (I think?you never really KNOW), to the Hell Creek, and the land of the Tyrannosaurs.

June 5 - moving the jacket

Ugh. Morning. I try to ignore the pale pink crawling slowly across my tent wall. It is too early to get up, even for field work, but it is worthless trying to go back to sleep. So, I slowly try to unfold and sit up without breaking any bones. I look for some article of clothing that is not sand filled, and get ready for another day. Coffee. I need coffee. Normally, I love to fall asleep to crickets and coyotes, and wake to the meadowlark song. However, this morning I am not particularly happy with them.

Ok, breakfast, with coffee, and then we pack lunches, fill water jugs, apply sun screen, and pile in the back of "Grey" (as opposed to "Brown", the other field truck up here. We paleontologists are nothing if not creative). We bounce around the pickup bed, trying to stay balanced amidst the boards and ropes and buckets and boxes and picks and shovels, up rutted paths and down again. Then, we jump down and begin to cart all of that down precarious paths to quarry level. We have run into a cement hard concretion layer just below the bone, and we have to try to break through it to see if more bone is beneath. Oh, I am hoping for more dinosaur. However, after an entire morning of ringing rock hammer, pick and shovel against this stuff and making about two inches of progress, I am willing to let the darned thing stay there.

But, after lunch, Bob breaks out the BIG jack hammer, and it goes much faster. The bend, scoop, straighten and toss is back, but harder. These cemented chunks are HEAVY.


At last we decide that there is nothing there. Last year, we knew we had a dinosaur leg, thigh, shin, ankle and toes, all lined out as in life. But this year we found no other sign of dino bits anywhere. The fossil record is capricious indeed.Either it had eroded away before we found it last year, or it would stay hidden until the prairie winters finally made headway into the concretion llayer. We were not going to do it. So, we proceeded with the take-out protocol.

Because this bone will be used for molecular studies, we took 3-5 inches of sediment that normally would ave been cleared away to lighten the jacket. We covered that with tinfoil to keep outside contamination to a minimum. Then we applied plastered burlap in long strips, smoothing and adding layers as it formed to the bone and began to harden. After that, for support and stability, we added two 2x4s, and plastered them to the jacket. Then, it was time to let that dry fully and stabilize, so the exhausted crew--some of us more exhausted than others--took a lunch break on the bluff.

The hard stuff remained to be done--the quarry was cut into a cliff face, and was about 15 feet below the truck that would take it back to camp! Now, graduate students are good for a lot of things, but there is a limit to what even they can do, and scaling a cliff with a 750 pound jacket goes beyond that. But--first things first, and that was to finish the jacket.



So, once the top had hardened and stabilized, the next step was to flip the jacket, so that we could plaster the other side. That involved undercutting the sandstone pedestals upon which it rested, making a tunnel under the main body of the jacket, and plastering that. Then, pressure from a crowbar would flip the jacket. Now comes the truly innovative step. Bob, quarryman extraordinaire, had the foresight to buy the hood of an old truck. His plan was to use it like a giant sled--gulp. If he is wrong--my precious bone will slide 25 + feet to the bottom of the canyon, taking out anything in its path! So, we had to do a couple of things to  prepare to flip our dinosaur drumstick. First, we had to measure the truck-hood sled, to be sure that the jacket would fit.

Then, we had to jack-hammer a path in the lip of the quarry, so it would slide. THEN we had to flip the jacket, and then plaster.

So it was with bated breath I watched (and took pictures) as they worked to turn the jacket onto the waiting sled...



and FINALLY...SUCCESS!. Ok, that is the EASY part of the hard part. Well...umm. wait. The jackhammering, picking, shoveling, was hard. This was hard. But...what was REALLY tough lies ahead...because...This is PART of the slope that it has to go up; only about the lower ¼ is visible in this picture!

So, we plastered the other side of the jacket on its truck-hood sled, and let it dry to figure this out. We trussed up our femur like a poorly wrapped birthday present, with multicolored chains and nylon ropes and belts, strapping it firmly to the hood and leaving enough chain to wrap to a thick nylon rope-cord thing (yes, good technical language, I know, but what DO you call those things?).

The other end we bound to "Grey," our trusty field truck. Laid down two 2-x-4 tracks for it to run up, and then got out of the way. Here is our neatly wrapped present. We are delaying the ultimate test of Bob and Nels' engineering ingenuity--gulp. Well, in the worst case scenario, I won't have to GRIND my bone before I subject it to my tests...

Well, ultimately we can put it off no longer. The sun is sinking, rain is forecast, and the crew is ready to break camp and move to the next site. After a REAL scary start, when the hood caught on a rough cut in the side of the quarry, lo and behold--look! There it goes! From here, to here...

Then, it was time to pack up the quarry (15 trips up and down the cliff face with equipment on our backs), and my favorite thing--I got to drive the 6-wheeler back! Yay! I love it. I have a lead foot in a car, and a lead thumb in an ATV!

But, we made it! Then, it is back to camp--hot, dusty, aching...and to a brief break for dinner, prepared by our opera singing cook (Nels's wife). Then, the major undertaking of breaking camp and moving out before the rains hit--by then it was dark, and as we headed over the roads to the hiway and all the way into town we were surrounded on all sides by sharp forks of lightening streaking the sky. It was a scene from a movie, eerie, and spectacular, and the type of storm designed to make humans seem small and insignificant. My pilot colleague and I got rooms in a malta hotel--a wonderful place right out of the 50s. OH! HOT SHOWER!!! REAL BED...HOT SHOWER!

And, in the morning, a plane ride to look forward to...

June 4

June 4

We got to the Andisaurus site about 8 am. The crew had unloaded most of the equipment before I got there, so only carting it down the hill on our backs remained. Nels, who was the crew chief on my favorite Brex dig, is trying to bring field paleontology into the 21st century. He is doing 3-D laser scanning of the site, with pictures every 20 seconds to document progress and monitor things we might miss.



At left you can see our crew, or part of it, inspecting our bone find at the end of my first day. We were looking for evidence that there was more dinosaur to go with the articulated foot and leg we took out last summer.

Even though the crew had removed about 10 feet of the soft sand before I got there, there was still at least 5 to go to get to the level of bone. Bend, scoop, straighten, toss, bend, scoop, straighten, toss...hour after hour, stopping only long enough to let the jackhammer loosen more of the back wall. There is not a lot of talking in the quarry. Most people are just trying to get the work done. Occasionally though, we get rather choice comments. After about the 15th faceful of sand, Lee started singing: "Just a spoonful of silicates makes the medicine go down..." (you get a little loopy from the sun out here). During a short lunch break, I took the time to walk around and just drink in the emptiness, majesty and beauty of this stark land.



Looking down at my feet, I saw prairie flowers. They are all tiny, and ephemeral. They have to grow quickly, because there won't be enough water for long to keep them alive. But if you take the time to look close,  they are incredibly beautiful.



As we get closer to the bone level, things slowed. Finally, about 6 pm, amidst a lot of protest from Nels, we decided we had gone far enough. Oh...I don't think I have a muscle that doesn't hurt! I know that I will need my legs for fieldwork, and stamina, so I make a point of running all year round so that I am in shape for the ups and downs of prospecting in the badlands. But--I forget about my arms and shoulders, and now I am paying. It was a rough first quarry day for me, but we took down 5 feet, and tomorrow should show whether or not more dinosaur remains hidden.

It was hot most of the day with the sun beating down as we worked, reflected off the buff sands of the quarry walls. I am sunburned, with hands that feel permanently claw shaped and back permanently bent. The sand on my face has sand on it, and no shower is in sight till we are done. Whoever invented wet-wipes, I am  forever indebted.

But, after cleaning up, and making a slight dent in the first several layers, there is hamburger on the grill, and the food tastes especially good. Even the sleeping bag on the leaking air mattress sounds lovely. The sunset is beautiful, and I am looking forward to sleep sooo much.



Ah, but the night was again not so restful. After about two hours of exhausted unconsciousness, my dreams were penetrated by the yips and howls of a passing band of coyotes. They have high pitched barks, so much that it is almost hard to take them seriously as predators. Each one tries to outdo the other for loudness, and the cacophony went on for at least an hour. They sound quite close, and I am glad Barney, my cat, is safely back with the horses and dogs, not here.

2007 Begins - June 3

June 3 (Sunday)

Well, late last night I found a message on my phone. No mistaking Bob?s voice, like gravel in a cement mixer. "Hey Mar, we will be down to that femur by then end of tomorrow,so you need to get up here."  So my plan was to leave around noon for the 6 hour drive, afterchurch, a run, and packing up. Then, my colleague called--we had talked about me driving his rig here to leave, as he has property here--then later in the week he would fly up and fly me back. Gee. Drive MY car 6 hours up and 6 hours back alone, or drive HIS car, and take 1.5 hours to fly back...easy decision. The exchange, however, took longer than I thought and I was two hours late leaving Bozeman.

Then, I got so lost in the scenery and the views of springtime in Montana that I drove right past the Big Timber turn off. Added another 40 or so miles I didn't need to drive...but eventually I got away from the people and the population. From about 20 miles out of Roundup until the outskirts of Malta, the thin ribbon road stretched straight and true, without a bend in sight as far as the eye could see--which, out here is virtually forever. I think I saw 20 vehicles on the road in all that time--all pick-up trucks of course. I guess no one wanted to be driving on such a perfect Sunday. There are probably 2 turns in the road between Roundup and Malta, separated by 200 miles or so. We don't go lateral here, and the only relief from the long straight stretches is vertical. Crest a hill, and it is like cresting a wave on the ocean--the whole flat world falls beneath, and one can see forever because there are no obstacles--only the curvature of the earth. Except the waves are green, and sage-brush scented. At last I see the Little Rockies rising up north of Zortman: the second turn!  And for the next 50 miles, I parallel them--peaks jutting against the evening sky, one cone-shaped that I have been told is an extinct volcano.

Miles and miles and miles with no radio coming in that this car can detect--then suddenly, the wild seeking for signal stops and I hear, "Welcome to 88.8, Native Voices, serving the Lakota peoples," followed by beautiful native drumming and music. It was hauntingly beautiful. Sigh. Only in Montana.

Oh, the wildlife I see on these lonely prairies! The small herds of pronghorns, buff and bright white, with short black horns that fork at the end--they are enjoying all the fresh tender grasses the recent rains have brought. And the muledeer. We don't see to many white-tails in this part of Montana, but the mulies replace them.

They are bigger, usually, and as their name implies, they have great big ears. The birds are prolific!  Pheasant and grouse and turkey for game birds, and countless prairie birds. In the late summer it gets so hot, and dry that it seems nothing could survive except bugs. But they are food for the birds, and once again I marvel at how different birds are in their physiology, from equally warm blooded mammals. That reflects, I guess, their histories, with both groups coming to warm-bloodedness through different means and different ancestors. And, thinking about birds makes me think about dinosaurs!

Then, finally the traffic picks up and I enter the thriving metropolis of Malta Montana. It's another 20 miles to camp, leaving the highway and driving thru prairie and cows on deeply rutted trails through the short grass and sage until I see tents. I have been watching the thunderheads build since the mountains--many hot days are followed by intense afternoon or evening showers. Quick but so welcome and cooling. It was a race between me and the rain to get the tent up. And setting up these lightweight back-packing tents is a real challenge in the wind. Hint: when trying to put those snap together tent poles in a thunderstorm, do NOT hold them straight up in the air...guess I looked a lot like a lightning rod. But, as the last stake on the rainfly went in, the rain hit, and I crawled in, nice and dry. There is nothing like listening to rain beat down on a tent, while you are safe and cozy and isolated within.

As quickly as it came the storm was over, and soon we were gathered for an absolutely delicious meal: fajitas from steak cooked on the grill, and all the trimmings. How many field camps have a bona fide opera singer for a cook? That is another story... Then, back to the tent and bed, but it was a short night. First it was the crickets, then with the very first vague light, the meadowlarks began their singing, and by the time it was daylight, I felt like I was in a Disney cartoon, there were so many birds singing LOUDLY outside my tent! I am exhausted, and feel like I slept not a wink--but no sense staying put--time for coffee, breakfast in the cooktent, and a day of hard labor. Yay.

Malta - Last Day

8/06

It was cool when we woke up this morning. The promise of rain in last night's clouds was misleading, and it was still and dry. Eggs with salsa, fruit, and LOTS of coffee, while we laid out the topo maps and tried to see where we could access the most promising bluffs. There is not as much exposure available as I had hoped. Still we have found enough evidence of bone that it is worth a more prolonged prospecting trip, I think.

We head south from the little cabin, after packing up all our gear and cleaning to remove all traces of our visit there. It is a great base camp, and I hope that we can use it again next summer to better explore the area here. There is a lot to think about for the next field season. I have learned that few who come out here are adequately warned about the dangers, discomforts, inconveniences and mosquitoes. So, I will have the winter to think over student requirements:  a basic first aid course, field safety seminars, adequate provisions, etc. But the chance to be so removed from civilization, and to watch pre-history quite literally unfold beneath your feet will appeal to some, I hope. I can't wait.

We have walked out new bluffs. Beautiful exposures that speak of massive rivers, or maybe beaches, and organic rich, swampy areas. Wind has scoured the capstone into beautiful sculptures that magnify the original cross bedding. No bone, except for some very tiny ossified tendons and a very small dromeosaur tooth. All isolated float, but still testimony to those that once inhabited the plains of Montana.


Sandstone sculptures created by wind and weather.

Then, we are on the road, 3 hours back to Lewistown, the about-half-way point, by way of the beautiful, stark and wild Missouri breaks country. Much more treed and with greater topographical relief, home to mountain lions, deer, elk, bear, eagles and other raptors. The waters of the mighty Missouri cut deep bluffs in the resistant rocks, and the canyons are steep. As we approach Lewistown, we see the first signs of the deep green that shows irrigation has made it to these plains. Water is more plentiful and available, and the land changes accordingly. Then on to Big Timber (an odd name for a town with hardly any trees!), and from there the road follows the beautiful Yellowstone River, all the way to Livingston. Livingston sits at the base of the Paradise Valley. I don't know wh